Camera Card Clean Off

Time to clean off the cards....

Why you don't swim in Florida's lakes

Another reason!

Flagler College, St. Augustine

Sausage Orgy

B B B Bird Bird Bird, Bird Is The Word.

Have a drink on me

Mirror Image or Refer To the First Picture

Foot Wash!

Shake It Big Willie

Even Torres......

My beard is called Joe Steel

At some point in a man's life he is destined to grow a beard, that is to say that a man will at least try to let his face grow long without the silent jeers and sideways looks of those among his inner circle. Today is my day and my beard is ready for the world.

My beard is strong and wise and would be given two thumbs up by Dusty Hill and Billy Gibbons although not quite as long and creepy as the aforementioned Texans, I am proud of my chin whiskers but feel that my crumb catchers days are numbered.

Ladies - want to  keep your bum warm in winter?

 The Wife: I always assumed that a little chin tickle would aid the little man in the boat and his perpetual journey for stimulation, but the wife hates facial hair more that two days old, claims that even a wee kiss is like making out with sandpaper attached to a chainsaw held by Michael J. Fox. To soon?
My apologies to Mr. Fox, I was a big fan of "The secret of my success"
and even looked into becoming a limo driver.




The Family: Although both parents were raised among the flower people of the 60's and looking back at their choice of wardrobe in the 70's I thought that my father walking about the town in clogs and my mother wearing a beehive on her head would afford them the luxury of free spirit as it pertains to their offspring. I was wrong, like the wife they despise Joe Steel and together they plot his demise.

The Children: My two boys love Joe Steel, they like to scratch him and pretend daddy is a lumberjack or one of those ice road truckers or even a young Chuck Norris sans the conservative viewpoints.

Sadly for Joe Steel his life must come to an end, his struggle with universal acceptance was lost, Joe Steel offered the world his middle finger as to their dislike of his presence but that was not enough. At the end of the day the face that Joe rested on missed the ever so delicate touch of the wife and grew tired of the isolation that Joe caused him. Don't worry about Joe he is alive and well and living in seclusion underground, waiting patiently for the wife to go out of town so he can rise again. R.I.P. amigo....

Friends of Joe...

Ass Kicking Beard

Beard, James Beard

Metro Sexual Beard

Curvy Beard

Beard with built in water dispenser

Stay Hairy My Friends

Teasing little men in boats all over the globe

Indie Ink: Dream Weaver

This is a response to the Indie Ink Challenge for this week, the prompt from bewilderedbug caused me a few sleepless nights and forced me to start my love affair with single malt highland whisky - again.
The following is a result of my whisky coma and bewildered bugs interesting mind.
Cheers, Sausage...


I was asked to write a dialogue between

Obama, Gandhi, Hitler, Blaze Star and Dita Von Teese 

President Obama is standing at the press podium and in front of him are:
Hitler, Gandhi, Blaze Star and Dita Von Teese.

Obama - Welcome ladies and gentlemen I will now take questions from the audience. 


Gandhi - Mr President, can you tell me this: does your toilet paper load from the back or the front? this is a question the world needs to know.

Obama - Well ahem, actually the staff loads the toilet paper so whatever they do is fine.

Gandhi - Mr. President you are dodging my question, please give me an answer.

Hitler - Well if four eyes is finished I have a question. Mr. President, you have been in the oval office now for three years, can you tell me this: What is it like? is it awesome? can I shadow you for a day? pleeeeaseee. Hell is so boring and the devil keeps asking for my advice, I will bring snacks.

Obama - Devils food cake?

Hitler - No, deviled eggs.

Blaze - Me next darling, is it hot in here or is it just you, (Starts stripping) Happy Birthday Mr. President...happy birthday to you.

Gandhi - My glasses are fogging up. 

Blaze - Mr. President, who do you believe is the better burlesque dancer me or the skank over there?

Dita - Who you callin' skank, I am a performance artist not a stripper.

Hitler - Ladies, ladies, do not fight come back with me to my secret bunker and we can discuss this and have some cyanide err I mean wine, yes lovely wine.

Gandhi - Can I come along?

Hitler - No way buzzkill you could suck the fun out of Christmas.

Obama - Look, I think the both of you ladies are very charming but as a married man I will not comment on which one like better. (Mutters under breath) The red head.

Obama - Ms. Von Teese did you have a question?

Von Teese - 34C-23-33.

Obama - Sorry I don't understand the question?

Von Teese - Starts stripping - you see these are my pole numbers 34C-23-33

Obama - Did you poll well in Iowa?

Von Teese - No silly my stripper pole numbers, I never work in Iowa it's a hard nipple state.

Gandhi - Oh dear my pole is growing in numbers as we speak.

Blaze - Holy pepperoni stick look at the tent that Gandhi is pitching.

Hitler - Now I know why he wears the robe.

Gandhi - Small things come in big packages....no wait it is big things come in small packages.

Obama - Speaking of small packages, Hitler when are you due back in hell?

Hitler - I have a luncheon with Bernie Madoff, Ken Lay from Enron and Kim Kardashian.

Obama - But Kim Kardashian is not dead.

Hitler - Oh I know but after she sold her soul to the devil she has to check in once a month plus I think Bernie has a little crush on her. We are having soup.

Dita - Kim Kardashian, that no talent hack.

Blaze - Reminds me of you.

Obama - Alright everyone time for one last question. Hitler you have your hand up go ahead.

Hitler - Sorry I was practicing my "Hails" for the annual hell day parade but I have one more question. Have you seen the one they call "Hillary" naked?

President Obama wakes up and realizes that this was all a bad dream, he ponders his day ahead. Fight with republicans, battle media pressure, work on re-election......decides to stay in bed.

I don't want to say I told you so - but I told you so

JUSTIN BIEBER IN A CAR ACCIDENT

I called this last year when the tot sensation received a flash car for his birthday.

Luckily for the female tweeners of the world the accident was minor and the heartthrob will still be able to supply them with his magic brand of awesomeness. Somewhere in the dark bowels of hell Bon Scott raises and angry fist to Mr. Bieber...

The original post was from 2010, check it out below.

A Lamborghini is like a beautiful woman
you don't just get in her and go,
you have to know how to work the gears!

Wee Justin Bieber was spotted behind the wheel of a $200,000 Lamborghini Gallardo Spyder, a gift from P Diddy. Apparently P.Diddy promised the pop phenom a car when he turned 16, but why hand a 16 year old the keys to a car that costs that much?

Why not hand the tyke the keys to a 1986 Buick with a Detroit steel reinforced frame? you know when he crashes it, and he will crash it, that the Buick will break the tree, the same can't be said for the lambo.

To me it's similar to when you loose your virginity, you want a girl who will work with you, you want someone who is comfortable with your fumbling around and searching for the right gear.
You want the Buick!

Bieber driving around in the lambo is like loosing your virginity to a porn star, you just can't get behind the wheel or behind the porn star and take them for a ride, the lamborghini and the porn star are made up of highly advanced machinery, not to be played with by 16 year olds.

Buckle up Bieber, she looks like a wild ride.

"Do what you love and you will never work again."

Sausage Fingers at a young age...



As a youth how many times did you hear the phrase:
 "Do what you love and you will never work again?"
Parents, scholars and general know it alls alike they all pounded this phrase over and over until they were blue in the face with repetition.

Looking back at the fun times of my youth which were spent in female pursuit and constant geo-mapping for liquor stores that did not card, I let the worldly wisdom of said scholarly ones in one ear and out the other.
During the summer of 1986 I never thought of picking up a pen and writing a journal or photographing my surroundings or even learning the DOS system of the commodore 64, I let the fresh education weep out of the noggin because I found the holy grail aka Mr. Pak's international grocery market and Mr. Pak did not card! Nice knowing you brain cells...

Fast forward 25 years and I still exist no thanks to Mr. Pak and his loose grip on the American under age drinking policy. 25 years of working and surviving, every Monday seems to be a tougher slog than the last and how fast the years go by when I think of the summer of '86 and Mr. Pak. I never listened to anyone's advice back then, my plan was to join the Navy and make a career of it but due to an unforeseen medical condition Uncle Sam's Navy sent me packing back to South Florida where I came to find out Mr. Pak had died.
R.I.P. Mr. Pak and thanks for the ice cold Old Milwaukee tall boys....

So here I am the proud father of 2 boys one about to embark on his last year of middle school and me with my 25 years of learned bullshit and knowledge of Van Halen lyrics from their 1984 album all I want to get through his noggin is:
 "Do what you love and you will never work again."

Has anyone ever met karma? if you see her tell her Sausage Fingers says she is a bitch.... 

Between then and now I have many challenges ahead, we have already had The talk of all talks, so that leaves me with teen driving, importance of school work and of course to NEVER EVER step inside a store called -  Mr. Paks international grocery market especially when the sign reads:

Mr. Pak's special buy

Old Milwaukee Tall Boys

30 pack $9.99

30 ice cold tall boys in the Florida summer have a very strong allure for a young lad or lass, my suggestion is stay away and go figure out where you want to be in 25 years....how cliche of me.

I have 25 years of experience under my ever changing belt, 13 of which have been self employed.
Self employment has always seemed to suit me best since me and my Scottish temper are not suited for the corporate world of ass kissing and back stabbing, which is kind of like high school with neck ties and BMW's.  I do not dislike my little company, I harbor no ill will for my jobs and customers and I get to spend every day with my business partner aka Mrs, Sausage. That's right me and the wifey both live and work together, it is 24/7/365...sorry no joke inserted here although sometimes she does make me sit in the corner when I am in one of my "Sausage" moods. What I don't feel for my business is total love, it like many other tasks has become a job and every once in a while I run for the hills at the thought of ever seeing the place again, that feeling usually lasts for a day then it's back to putting food on the table for the family.

So what has the last 25 years of working for large companies, working for small firms, working for assholes and working for myself taught me? obviously the answer is listed in the title of the blog, no need to repeat you all know the answer.

I do hope that my two boys will listen to old dad and conquer the world their own way never having to dread that Sunday night feeling of Monday and the work week looming.

Good luck boys, do yourselves a favor and listen to you father...

I have a question for all of you out there in the world, here goes:

If you could start over what would you do? what job would make you smile every day?
Or do you already have your dream career?
Please leave a comment.
Cheers, Sausage...